Touch
by Lucy Kent
Summary: Fenrir's attack on Bill Weasley didn't only leave scars on his face. Bill/Fleur pairing.


**A submission for the Phobias Character Competition.**

** Aphenphosmphobia (Fear of Touch) - Bill Weasley**

**Words: 1,899**

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><p>The doctors say it's called aphenphosmphobia, or something like that anyway. A phobia of touch. They tell me it is perfectly normal, after what I went through. What I went through. That's all they'll say. They won't openly acknowledge that I got attacked by a werewolf. I turn my eyes toward the door at movement on the other side of the glass. The door opens and my doctor walks in. I feel my breath grow short, my chest tightens, and I can't breathe. They want to touch me. They want to take the bandages from my face and poke and prod the damage. They want to touch me!<p>

Blackness surrounds my vision and I hear the heart monitor blaring at the doctors to do something. But a soft voice reaches to me. It makes me think of a meadow of daisies. It makes me think of a warm fire in the middle of winter. It calms me slightly and my vision clears enough so that I can see Fleur standing just to the side of my bed. This is only the second time she has visited me. The first time had been over a week ago. She had reached for my hand... I had jerked it away. I had seen the pain on her face before she had run out. But I could say nothing. I can't stand touch, I can't even touch my fingers together without hyperventilating. How can she be with someone like that. I can never caress her arm again. I can never hug her again. I can never kiss her again. I can't be with her. I thought she had understood that. So I just can't understand why she is standing here now.

"Breathe." She says in that foxy french accent I fell in love with. And I can't do anything but listen to her. She is standing right next to my bed now, and I can't tear my eyes from her. How could she be this close to someone this hideous. I move a little further from her, I don't want to touch her. To stain her. I see the sadness in her eyes. I want to reach out and caress her cheek and let her know that everything is going to be ok. But it won't. And I can't. But she says nothing, just holds out a bottle. "Drink this." It's a dark purple potion, and I reach for it. I trust her. I carefully grab the glass, keeping my fingers as far away from hers as possible. As I drink it, I recognize a sleeping potion in the taste and I start to drift off. She is smiling softly at me the whole time, and her eyes are the last thing I see before darkness surrounds me.

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><p>I'm too dependant on her. I am giving her hope for a future she can't have. But she is the only one who can give me the sleeping potion without my panic rising. I know that while I sleep, the doctors touch me. I have nightmares of them poking their fingers into the wounds of my face. Every night that I wake up from these dreams, I find her sitting there calmly. She hands me a wet towel that I drop on my forehead so my fingers can't brush my skin. But tonight, as I start to relax, something feels different. Her eyes look expectant, hopeful.<p>

I then realize that her hand is on my leg. She is touching me. There is a barrier of clothing between us, but she is touching me. As my heart monitor picks up she yanks her hand away. She apologizes to me. She said she had done it without thinking. Eventually I start to calm down. And I watch as she walks over to where her makeshift bed is and crawls into it, her back to me.

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><p>I was finally able to see my family. Fleur explained that she wanted to wait for me to be less tense around others. As my mom walks in, I see her eyes. I know what she wants to do. I don't know how to tell my mom that I couldn't let her hug me. She can't touch me. But before my panic can grow, Fleur steps into my mother's path and quickly tells a story about how I have some potions working in my system and no one is allowed to touch me. My mother smiles encouragingly at me at Fleur's words and carefully takes a seat next to my bed. The whole time we are talking, I am hyper aware of every movement she makes while we talk. Goosebumps rise as every twitch of my mother brings her fingers closer to mine. Just as my heart decides that my mother has grown too close Fleur says that it is time to change visitors. She takes my parents from the room and gives me a moments break.<p>

Later, after my family has left, I gather my courage and pressed my hand against Fleur's for a moment in thanks. She freezes, I freeze. My panic starts up so I pull my hand away, but the smile that fills Fleur's face makes my courage worth it.

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><p>I have been getting better. My doctors have told my family and Fleur that I am continuing to stay in the hospital for testing on how the werewolf attack will affect me. In reality, I am meeting with a psychiatrist everyday and we are working on my phobia. I waited for Fleur to go to visit her family before putting the request to my doctor. He had been thrilled that I asked for the help. But I told him that it had to be kept from Fleur. I told him that I wanted to surprise her with touch. Now everyday when she leaves at 11 to meet my family and update them, I am meeting with Dr. Carson. There has been a few close calls with Fleur coming back early, but the nurses think I am romantic and keep an eye out for her.<p>

Dr. Carson is very understanding about everything. He doesn't get frustrated with my slow pace at all. His voice is calm, and he doesn't bat an eye when I grow angry at how slow the process is. But it was all worth it. I am able to press my fingers to almost everywhere on my body now. Except my face. I won't touch my face. I still have images of fingers in wounds to do it, even if I can see the scarred over skin. But I can press my hand against Dr. Carson's for a few minutes without panicking. Although, I tried to touch Dr. Carson's assistant and couldn't do it. It's not perfect, but it's improvement.

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><p>I am leaving the hospital tomorrow. Dr. Carson says that this is an important step for me. Once I leave the hospital, the likelihood of me being touched by people I don't know is much higher. My breathing speeds up every time I think of it. But tomorrow is my first real test. I want to hold Fleur's hand as we walk out of the Hospital. And then when we get to my house, I want to get down on one knee and propose to her. She has told me multiple times that she won't leave me. As the weeks have passed, I have to believe in her. But I need to prove to her that I won't leave her.<p>

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><p>There are so many people. Only Fleur's hand in my own keeps me from fleeing. This is our wedding after all. But I know what is coming. It's almost time for the line of congratulations. The line where I have to shake the hands of so many people. I start to breath faster. Fleur shoots a worried glance my way before waving someone over. I look over and see Dr. Carson standing there. Once Fleur had heard of all the work Dr. Carson had done with me she had insisted that he be invited. I agreed with her. Dr. Carson takes one look at me before saying "Mrs. Weasley, I am sorry to ask, but may I borrow your husband for just a moment? I want to show him something for a moment."<p>

Fleur beamed at the man. Than leaned over and pecked my marked cheek. I was used to the action by this point so I only smile at her. I wave my mother over, so that Fleur is not alone before Dr. Carson takes me out of the tents and toward the house. Once we are away from prying ears Dr. Carson smiles broadly. "I am so proud of you my boy." I shake my head. I am still terrified of touching all of those people. "Listen to me." He grips my shoulder, and I am grateful that it does nothing but turn my eyes to him. "In less than a year, you have made phenomenal bounds with a phobia that many never recover from." He releases my shoulder. "But I can tell that the thought of the congratulations line is causing you some worry." I nod vigorously. "That's ok. That's perfectly natural. And because of that, I have a gift for you. But you must promise not to become dependant on it. To only use it in times of great need." My curiosity is peaked and I nod slowly.

He pulls out a pair of white gloves. I know I have only a blank expression on my face and he laughs. "Here." He hands them to me. I feel the cloth of it. It is a very fine material. It's a beautiful gift, but gloves only lessen the amount of touch happening, not eliminating it. The man laughs again. 'Put them on." I trust him, and I am sure he knows what he is doing, so I slip a glove on. The moment it is settled onto my skin it disappears. I can't feel it, or see it anymore. I look up to find Dr. Carson's hand out. Slowly I reach forward to shake his hand. But even as I can see my hand wrapped firmly around his own, I can't feel anything. "These gloves, dear boy, will help you keep appearances without having to touch every person. They are impervious to magic, at least to the extent of revealing that they are there. There is no way for someone who doesn't know you are wearing them to tell. They match the texture of your hand perfectly for the other person. Every five years or so, take them to Mungo's to get the magic recharged."

My instincts take over and I pull the man into a hug. We both freeze, but then I realize I am fine with this. This touch is ok. I feel a tear slip out of one of my eyes. It is because of this man I am able to be at my own wedding. I pull back and find that he had a tear or two of his own. "Thank you so very much Dr. Carson."

"Of course." He held out his hand again. "And let me be the first to congratulate you." I reached up and took the glove off of my hand. Than I shook Dr. Carson's hand. A comforting touch.


End file.
